First Meetings
by Akane-Rei
Summary: Excerpts detailing the events when different characters first encountered Kenshin.
1. Ii Akanesan, Sakurasan, Kasumisan

Author's Note: Please note while the first few chapters of this fanfic have a slight continuous flow, not all of them will have it. Gaps will appear in the timeline. I have chosen characters based on my interest on them, and they don't necessarily meet Kenshin one right after the other. Thanks for taking the time to read my humble offering to the RK fanfic world.

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**First Meetings **—** A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic**

_**Part One: Himura Shinta**_

_Chapter One: Akane-san, Sakura-san, Kasumi-san_

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Sakura bent herself backward in an effort to stretch her overused muscles. The travel had been grueling today; the slave traders in more hurry than usual. She heard them fight amongst themselves about a new acquisition they made—a small boy to be exact. Jinpachi, that cruel lout, had gotten in an argument with his brother Oniji, an even more depraved lout, over taking the boy with them. The boy would slow them down, he had said, in these bandit-infested areas.

While she hated to agree with anything that pervert had to say—don't think she didn't notice how his eyes followed her around these days—he did have a point. The boy had a slight frame; a good gust of wind could blow him clear across the field. Still, he walked as silently like the rest of them, his eyes wide and bewildered. He had an almost desperate air about him as he trudged one foot forward at a time.

"Move along, boy!" shouted Oniji, giving the boy a solid kick in the behind for good measure before walking away. He had been taking out his frustration on everyone he seemed to set his eyes on ever since he had lost the argument over the boy.

She winced as the boy stumbled, scraping his knees and hands along the rocky dirt path. And, in one of her more shameful acts to date, she looked away and pretended not to see.

"Are you okay?" she heard someone ask.

She looked back to see her sister, Kasumi, kneel down and gently help the boy up.

"What are you doing?" she hissed under her breath. "Leave him alone," she continued as she tried to drag her sister's arm away. "Oniji might very well come over and take his wrath out on both us for helping him."

Kasumi looked up at her reproachfully. "He's just a boy, Sakura. He's scared and alone here." She looked around for their owners. "Besides, they couldn't sell him for much if he was too battered."

Sakura looked back down at the boy in question. She felt a familiar rise of bile well up in her throat as she cursed silently the unfairness of it all. Of course she knew he was just a boy. But then, aren't boys just so _special?_ Isn't that the reason that she and Kasumi were sold into slavery while her brother remained at home under the protective wing of their parents? She stopped her train of thought.

Kasumi reached out and touched her arm. "Please," she said.

"Just get going," Sakura snapped back. "You don't want to give Oniji and excuse to think we're dawdling."

Kasumi nodded and held her hand out to the young boy. "What's your name?" she asked, attempting to draw him out of his shell. The boy was a quiet one.

He looked up at them with his deep purple child eyes and said quietly, "Shinta," as he brushed the dirt of his threadbare clothes. He raised his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Thank you for helping me," he continued politely.

Kasumi smiled merrily. "It's nice to meet you, Shinta," she replied. "I'm Kasumi and this is my sister, Sakura," she pointed towards her.

Sakura remained silent for a moment until she felt Kasumi's nudge. "Hello," she said uncomfortably. The boy had a way of looking at you...Almost as if he knew why she didn't want to be near him. "Let's just go, okay?" she said, making a concerted effort to move along.

"What's taking you so long?" a low whisper came from behind. She turned and saw Akane trudge along.

Sakura pointed at the boy.

"Oh, hello, Shinta," Akane greeted. "Have you met my friends?"

Shinta's eyes grew bigger as he stared at the new arrival and nodded his head. Sakura could hardly blame him. She didn't think he'd had this much attention (that is, _good_ attention) in awhile. In fact, the boy didn't look like he's had much of _anything_ lately.

"Let's hurry, okay?" Akane continued on. "We don't want the jerk brothers finding an excuse to punish us, now do we?"

And so, they walked, following the line of fellow slaves, with the heat beating down at their backs. She watched the boy (she just couldn't bring herself to call him Shinta) as his small strides tried to match the pace set before them. She gave a startled little gasp when she noticed that his feet were bare and raw.

He looked back at her with his solemn eyes as if to ask what was wrong.

She bit her lip and looked away as she tried to stem the bitterness that swamped her thoughts.

* * *

It was several hours before the traders let them have a rest. A small bowl of water was passed along the line and she waited in anticipation.

It was so hot!

"Only one gulp, you greedy leeches!" she heard Jinpachi shout and saw him cuff one of the slaves. She grimaced at the sound of grunting, of whip hitting flesh, and of bodies falling down. She closed her eyes and tried to block it all. All she wanted was the water.

She waited patiently for one of the bowls to get to her. And when it did, she stared at it aghast. There was barely anything in it. Maybe a drop. She looked up and saw Oniji leer at her.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked. "Drink up!"

"There's not anything in here," she tried to whisper bravely.

"Well, you know what you have to do to get more, don't you?" he laughed at her before going of to torment some other poor soul.

Tears building behind the back of her eyes, she tilted the bowl back, attempting to get more than just a drop. She shook the bowl, her fingers clasped tightly against it.

"Would you like some of mine?" a voice came to her.

She almost dropped the bowl and saw the boy with his ration of water held up to her. She blinked. What was he doing? Didn't he know how precious water was right now? For a brief shameful moment, she thought to accept the offer. Just to teach him a lesson. Her face flamed at the thought and she choked back a sob.

What kind of person had she become? Slowly, she shook her head, passed her bowl off to someone else, and hoped against hope that she hadn't sunk as low as to deprive a child of water.

It wasn't more than a few minutes later when the shouting began.

Bandits!

She stood up as they came from what seemed like all sides. She felt blood splatter across her face in the same instant she heard the clanging of swords. She glanced quickly at Akane and Kasumi as they mobilized and tried to make a run for it.

But there were just too many of them, too many and they were all so tired...

"Don't hurt them," a child's voice exclaimed. And as Sakura looked up, she saw Shinta come between the bandits and her, her sister, and Akane. And in that one instance, she knew the secret wish her heart wished ever since she realized that her parents would sell her and Kasumi to slavery. I n her mind, she envisioned her brother, whom she had loved ever since he was born, whom she had doted upon, whom she had spoiled much to her parents' ever-lasting annoyance...she envisioned him—her parents golden child...she had envisioned him begging her parents to let them stay, to not sell them to slave-traders, to keep them in their home forever.

Except, of course, he didn't. He stared at them with solemn, innocent eyes as he waved goodbye.

And now, this boy, this stranger, stood before them in his misguided attempt to protect them.

"Shinta!" she heard Kasumi shout as she grabbed Shinta and shoved him behind her.

A wordless cry escaped Sakura's lips as she saw her sister fall down, blood gurgling in her mouth. She caught Shinta in her arms, and wrapped her arms protectively around him.

"Don't look," she said quietly, as Akane lent her frame in an effort to protect him as well. She felt one of the men try to drag Akane away and she embraced the boy tighter. "Don't look," she said again, as she heard the sound of swords hit flesh, the sounds of cries over the clang, and more...more sounds best left unsaid.

She looked at the boy, saw his scared but determined eyes and tried to think of what to say. "Shinta," she said urgently, "listen to me. You're too young...too young to give your life to protect others." She looked into his eyes and searched desperately for the words, the right words. She tried to convey her appreciation of his efforts, her concern for him, and her gratitude to him for reminding her of her love for her brother, who was too innocent to know that she wasn't coming back.

And when she felt her hair dragged back from her head and the blade pierce her skin, she murmured a silent prayer to the gods to protect this boy, this very young boy with red hair and old, purple eyes. This boy who sought to protect others from suffering. This brave boy, whom she hoped her brother would grow up to one day become.

She felt the world darken. _Shinta...Thank you._

End_  
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	2. Iii Seijuro Hiko

**First Meetings ****—**** A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic**

_**Part One: Himura Shinta**_

_Chapter Two: Seijuro Hiko_

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Hiko was too late by the time he got there. Blood had been shed. Guts had been spilled. Both the innocents and the guilty had paid with their lives. In these times of war and chaos, you almost get used to it.

Although his discipline prevented him from taking sides in a conflict, he wasn't above metting out justice to some pond scum of humanity. And so, when he encountered those bandits in the road, he had drawn his own sword to give them the eternal peace. Of course, by that time those murdering bastards had had their fun and was in the process of finishing off a little runt when the flash of his own sword put a stop to their antics. He looked around the pile of dead bodies and shook his head. He was too late and there was nothing else he could do about it.

He walked silently towards the little runt of a boy and stared at the child's bowed head.

"There's nothing you can do about this now," he said practically. It wasn't wise to dwell on things you can't change, after all. "You're lucky I got here when I did," he continued, "otherwise, you would have been lying here too."

The boy remained still as a statue. He must be in shock.

"There's nothing you can do for them now," he repeated, referring the the women the boy was staring at. He crouched down and tried to look at the kid's eyes. "Your sisters did not deserve this, but there's nothing that can be done. At least I avenged them for you."

Still, no word.

Hiko sighed. He had seen this before. Sometimes tragedy such as this could paralyze and incapacitate a man. It was really too bad that it had to happen to someone this young, but that's the way of the world sometimes.

"There's a village in that direction," he tried again. "Let them know what happened here and ask for help."

Still no response. The kid just sat there, staring. _Ahh, what the hell? The kid will move when he wants to. Right now, he had to be somewhere. _He gave an impatient grunt as he stood up. "Remember what I said about the village," he stated.

And with a careless shrug, he left. He hoped the boy followed his advice, but if he didn't there's nothing to be done about it now.

End


	3. IIi Seijuro Hiko

**First Meetings ****—**** A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic**

_**Part Two: Himura Kenshin**_

_Chapter One: Seijuro Hiko_

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"Are you sure no one stopped by this village?" he asked, days later, silently hoping that the boy had snapped out of it.

"Yeah," the old man had replied cantankerously. "The only visitor we've had here this past week was a stray dog."

Hiko cursed under his breath and hid his disappointment as he continued to walk his way home, a slight feeling of frustration building. Maybe he should have tried a little harder to help the kid. That would have been the least he could do given what had happened. He shook his head.

_Ah damn. That kid probably just up and died on the spot_. He grunted. _What a damn waste._ He sighed. Perhaps it was just as well. If the kid's constitution was that weak, who knew what would have become of him in this world?

Again, he shook his head. That was the problem. He had not thought of the child as some weakling. At first glance, maybe. With his small size and slight frame, the kid's stance practically screamed frailness. Yet, there was something...something he couldn't quite point his finger to.

Which was why, days later, he went asking around the village just to see how the kid fared. He was just curious, is all. And now that he found out that the kid never even went to the village...well...that just put him in a slightly worse mood than he was already when he started.

There was something about that kid.

But hey, if the kid was so stupid as to not take his advice, then there was nothing else for him to do but bury all the bodies. He didn't have the time before, but now, he might as well do it. Dead is dead, after all.

He headed over to the site of the massacre and prepared himself for a long night. Digging up mass graves wasn't something he looked forward to, especially when the dead had been lying on the ground with only the hot sun and the scavengers for company for several days. He braced himself from the expected stench and the inevitable signs of animals scavenging the dead. It wouldn't be pretty, but then, death rarely was. And violent death...that was a bitch.

He walked in silence for awhile before he almost stumbled at the sight of the massacre. And, instead of the overwhelming sight of decay he expected, what he saw were

_Graves...Individual graves with markers on them..._

"What the**—**" he stopped and noticed that same boy, just there, almost in the middle of this makeshift cemetery. His head was bowed down, his russet hair covering his face.

Hiko walked towards him, incredulous. Of all the things he expected to see in this desolate place, _this_ certainly wasn't it. He approached the kneeling child purposely. "You buried them," he stated, his brain still not quite able to take it all in. "Even the bandits," he said in a more muted tone.

Hiko saw the kid take a deep breath. "It's all the same," his child's voice whispered. "They're all just dead," he said, his tone very matter-of fact. But underneath the tone, Hiko sensed...a sadness. Almost a muted desperation.

He nodded absently at the child's answer. "Yes," he replied, his voice solemn. "Dead is dead." He looked at the three marked stones in front of the kid. The boy took extra special care with these. "Who are these that you held them with more honor?" he asked, curious.

"Akane-san, Kasumi-san, and Sakura-san," he answered. "They're not my sisters, but...I made friends with them." He paused. "I tried to put more things, like flowers and such; but even the flowers don't grow here."

Still. The boy was so still.

He wouldn't say it, but deep down, Hiko was...touched. He opened his canteen and poured his remaining sake over the grave stones. "Dying without having tasted good sake would be a pity," he said. "This will be my gift to them."

He saw a hidden look of gratitude from the boy at his words while the boy stared at the clear liquid as it bathed the stones. The boy was too quiet really. He looked up again and stared at the countless number of graves before him as the silence stretched between the two of them.

_It's all the same. They're all just dead._

"What's your name?" he finally asked abruptly.

The kid looked up at him, almost startled out of his own reverie, his lavender eyes too girly for such a boy. "Shinta," he replied quietly. "Himura Shinta."

Hiko shook his head. "That name is too sweet for a master swordsman," he stated. "From now on, you shall be called Kenshin." He crouched down and offered his hand. "Come with me, Kenshin." He saw those purple eyes widen. "I'm going to teach you something very special."

End


	4. IIii Katsura Kogorou

**First Meetings ****—**** A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic**

_**Part Two: Himura Kenshin**_

_Chapter Two: Katsura Kogorou_

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He heard the clang of swords against each other, and even the sounds they make as they cut through the air, before he saw the camp. A group of men, mostly armed, awaited their turns to show off their skill not only to the leader of the Choushuu Ishin Shishi, but also to their peers. He walked steadily down the hill, aware of the lowered voices as he passed by. Once in awhile, he would glance at several groups as each individual in the group approached their training posts—no more than a thick wooden post wrapped in rope—and gave their best effort.

He winced at some of the attempts. Clearly, not many of these men were fighters. He would be surprised if they've held more than a pitchfork prior to this day. But still, they had a good heart. He hoped. With their help, and others like them, perhaps they'll usher in a new era.

Maybe.

"Well," his friend nudged him. "What do you think of this?"

He glanced at Shinsaku, the person responsible for his being here. "You said you had something to show me," he replied.

Shinsaku gestured towards the men. "Look at them," he said, his voice containing a thread of excitement. "The Kiheitai! They are a symbol of the new era! Anyone can join regardless of your status or your birth. All you need is the ambition, the determination to make it."

Listening to Shinsaku with half an ear, Kogorou made a slight grimace at another clumsy attempt at the training post. "It's a good sentiment," he said slowly, "but do you think it would be enough?" He gestured towards the men. "A significant number of these men are untrained. I'm not so sure that sending them off to certain death is something we can afford."

"They just need some training, some experience," Shinsaku assured him. "And they're willing to go through with that." Shinsaku took a deep breath. "They're hungry for change, too, like us. That alone would sustain them."

Kogorou nodded and continued to watch the displays, judging each man he saw. Old and young, all were eager to demonstrate their skills.

"Look," Shinsaku interrupted his train of thought, "even boys are allowed to join."

He stared at the spot pointed out to him. Many men had gathered and he heard a few jeers. He walked slowly towards the commotion.

"Awww, look," he heard, "he even brought his own sword!"

Curious, Kogorou stared at the man in question and his eyes widened. The subject of much heckling was nothing but a lad yet to reach his manhood. He had long, red hair**—**a great contrast to many of the people present; that, however, was obviously not what set him apart. He looked at Shinsaku skeptically. Surely this man did not expect them to win a revolution with _children_?

"Hey," he heard one of the hecklers, "if you cut the post in half, I'll—"

"As I said," Shinsaku replied, "anyone can join. That kid came with his own sword—a rarity, I know—yesterday and said he wanted to help." Shinsaku shrugged. "If anything, maybe we can get the sword from him once he decides that war is for grown-ups."

Kogorou continued to watch the group as the boy paused ever so slightly before attacking the post.

_WHOOSH!_

Or at least, he was pretty sure he attacked the post. What he can't be certain of was how he did it. One moment the training post was in one piece and the next it was lying in pieces.

He felt his heart stop, just for a moment, before racing a mad dash against his chest.

_Fast, _he thought. His eyes couldn't even determine the form it took.

The silence that permeated the air after the display was palpable.

He watched the boy put back his sword expertly in its sheath and whisper something to one of the hecklers. "Shinsaku," he said quietly to his companion. "I believe I'm taking this boy to Kyoto with me."

To his side, Shinsaku could only nod.

* * *

Much later in the evening, he thought back on his impressions of the boy, Himura Kenshin, and wondered at the path they would take.

"_Have you killed with your Hiten Mitsurugi school, yet?" _ he had asked bluntly.

"_No," _came the reply. A slight pause, "_but...but if my tainted sword and the blood I shed could bring about an era to end the suffering that I see—"_

Kogorou had nodded. This, he understood. _"We leave for Kyoto tomorrow,"_ he had informed him. _"Be ready."_

And that morning, a little bit before dawn's early rays made itself known, he saw the boy waiting for him outside.

"I am ready," he told him quietly, surely.

And for one moment, one small moment when his compassion overtook his passion for change, he wondered if he could give the ugliest of all burdens to this boy. He wondered if the boy knew, if he really knew, what he was ready for.

After that moment, a decision was made, and he would stick by it.

End


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